


A New Dawn

by mcrshank



Category: Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Breaking Dawn, Multi, Post Breaking Dawn, a new daw, anne boleyn - Freeform, twilight - Freeform, twilight revisited
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2019-02-13 16:17:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12987765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcrshank/pseuds/mcrshank
Summary: It has been years since the near-battle with the Cullens; where amidst the aftermath, the self-named royalty of the vampire world continues to keep the peace. It is thus that in such ventures, the Volturi must fight against the question of identity, when a seemingly new gifted vampire of  a shifting nature starts making a mess; making of their rule a shaky one from Master to Guard when the true face of the criminal makes Aro look upon one of the hardest decisions of his existence: to break his own rules or to lure a jewel of history under his wing.One thing is sure: no matter what he decides, nothing will be the same again.





	1. Shifting

Rodrigo’s eyes couldn’t leave the ones of his flesh and blood reflection, the echo of his screams tooted against the walls of the room even as the one holding him down told him not to scream. One small line on Rodrigo’s arm glistened crimson with the flowing of fresh blood; and he could see, in the deep dark scarlet eyes of the man on top of him, that to which he could truly only refer to as bloodlust.  The moonlight shone brightly outside the window, illuminating the corners of the small house nearly as if the day were still young; even with such brightness Rodrigo knew that no one would come to his rescue, for he’d heard of the murders in the island, there’d been six so far, all the same, bodies drained of blood and set somewhere in the island to see like an artistic bloodless tableau; and the island was truly so small that everyone knew the names and lives of those departed.

Yet he never thought it would happen to him; isn’t that how every murder victim thought? Walking along the streets of the places they once thought safe, not even that carefully because how could such ever happen to him? Well, he’d been wrong; it was happening to him now, and he knew no one would stop it. Everyone around the island knew to look the other way when a house echoed with the screams of another; he was alone to die. “Estoy loco!” He yelled, eyes terrified, limbs trembling as he tried to move away from the grasp of the man on top of him. What other explanation could there be but him being absolutely insane? He was looking at a man that was nothing more than the very mirroring image of himself holding him down; only the eyes of the other Rodrigo were bright red.

“Stop moving, you abominable bastard!” The creature with the red eyes said, and that only made Rodrigo scream louder; not only did the creature look like him but it _sounded_ like him; with such perfect English that he knew he could have _never_ been able to speak; accented in such a way that he would have never managed.

“DEMONIO!” Rodrigo yelled at the creature holding him down, but it only laughed a low breathed echo, making the hairs at the back of Rodrigo’s hair stand completely on end.

“A demon, you say?” It asked incredulously with a wide evil smile that scared Rodrigo to see in a clear mirror of his own features. “No, I am much better.” It said just before leaning closer to his face; its hands continued to hold Rodrigo’s both arms down as the light rustling sound of the palm trees dancing with the midnight breeze tooted from the outside. When the creature was finally low enough to have its lips less than an inch away from Rodrigo’s ear, it whispered. “I’m the devil himself.” And then Rodrigo screamed even louder; when he did, the creature’s back straightened and the most chilling wave of laughter left its lips. Rodrigo’s eyes couldn’t part from it, and suddenly, as its laughter continued, the features that had so incredibly mirrored Rodrigo’s only a moment ago started shifting, twisting slowly until the image of the person holding him down was that of a woman; her hair was the deepest shade of dark that only became darker with the shadows of the night, her skin shining pale against the moonlight, her slim body continued to hold him down, and all Rodrigo could do was scream.

Her laugher and his screaming mixed like music against the soft sounds of the night, yet she knew that she’d played enough with her food. Her laughter subsided and her glistening red optics danced until she was sure that Rodrigo’s own brown ones we looking directly at her, and with a movement that seemed to be faster than any other, she sank her teeth deeply into his throat; Rodrigo felt as his body weakened, his will to continue screaming disappeared almost immediately, he knew his life was ending, _This is how they’ve all died..._ he thought, _eaten by a monster..._ He didn’t even realise when his screams stopped, but everything around him slowly disappeared; even with his eyes wide open, everything all went black.

-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-

They day had lit up with life once the sun appeared, the sound of the waves of the ocean were truly the only sound surrounding the island; even as everyone awakened within a beauteous scenery, they were quiet. Carolina, the town historian, walked scared along the streets of a home town she had once upon a time strolled through happy, as per usual on an early morning, nearly racing to reach her small bookshop in the middle of the town; she was always the first in that place, yet now she wished she’d waited a little longer to leave. The thought of her baby boy and teenage daughter living in a place where the screams of dying people were ignored by everyone made her uneasy, yet how could they not? They were all scared of dying; even the sheriff. Carolina’s hands trembled for a couple of seconds when she dared look toward Rodrigo’s house, she’d known him very well, and she couldn’t even grasp the fact that he was...  She looked away quickly and walked faster. She couldn’t dare let herself think about it; walk along, _liv_ e, she thought and continued her small journey to the town square.  

Carolina knew she had a book to finish, a story to continue, and above all, two children to take care of. She had to go on, fight until she could leave and pray that Ariana’s cry for help to the world once she’d left the island on her little boat would be heard in the name of this place; she knew they needed it, the help. Carolina searched for her keys in her bag, moving along the last corner for the town square just the way she always did every morning; finally her eyes shifted and dared look up.

And that’s when she saw it.

The fountain in the middle of the square didn’t look at all like every morning, it was adorned by the most sadistic form of art she could have ever found, one hand looked as if it were trying to escape the fountain’s waters, body parts made a small bloodless isle toward it on the sandy floor, but a head was neatly placed at the very top of the stone structure and it wasn’t until she walked a little closer, when she saw the very open eyes and mouth of Rodrigo Mendoza, that she let out the loudest scream the town would ever hear.

From a dark corner in an alley near the town square _she_ smirked. Her work had finally been found. 

**_~Four days later - Volterra~_ **

Alec Greco had been taking a much needed cleansing walk through the castle’s gardens when Giovanna had announced that Master Aro wanted a word with him; and as he made his way over to the very large empty marble room, he took a deep, unneeded, breath of air and expelled it out in a sigh. It seemed to him as if once he and his sister Jane were home and finally settled back into a routine, they were sent out on another mission; always together, always with Jane at the head. Sometimes Alec wished he could be as “normal” as Afton was, almost always on the caste’s grounds with his companion; or at least somewhere closer to Volterra than, say, Russia or the Americas, but such a thing could seldom be wished from one of Aro’s favourites, could it?

When Alec finally made it to the big doors he stepped back, for they were opening slowly, and Heidi had, with a little sway to her hips, started coming out from them; this was not an unusual sight, yet Alec wondered why her features looked upset instead of the regular satisfied look she carried everytime she walked away from the so called throne room. Upon the attention she felt directed at her, she looked at him with a minute shake of her head. “I’ll tell you later.” She promised swiftly before making her way hurried down that long hallway; something that only made Alec’s brows rise before his head finally turned to look inside the giant room. He continued moving forth and only stopped when he was a few inches away from the marble stairs that led up to the three golden thrones; his friend’s troubles, the only thing within his mind. “Ah, Alec.” Aro said with a strange smile crossing his features; at this Alec bowed.

“Master.” He murmured before standing straight and looking at the old man completely. He was alone in the room; Caius and Marcus probably in their quarters or somewhere in the castle, yet that alone made Alec realise that the subject of which they were to speak of was probably not even that important a matter.  “I can only assume you have a mission for us.” Alec voiced without being able to leave the plural out of his sentence. “How can we be of service?”

It wasn’t until Aro offered Alec a folder that he realised he’d been holding something in his hands; the young guard took it and opened it, allowing his eyes to scan the contents: a pair of plane tickets and a map of the Atlantic, a red mark circling the destination that both Jane and himself would be leaving for. “We will be sending you out of the country and to this small island near Mexico.” Aro confided. “It would seem one of our kind has taken to indulging more than they should.”

It was all Alec could do to keep the internal sigh that wrestled within him; he was never, _ever_ , sent anywhere without his sister; probably Aro’s favourite of the duo, unless it was just out of reach of the city or within the castle walls. Alec hated it, but what could he do? “Are we to leave tonight, or tomorrow?” He asked, finally looking up toward his master.

“You must leave at once.” Aro announced; his hands holding each other nearly on a praying manner. “I expect you both will not be missing your flights.” He gazed down at Alec as if he were wearing the spectacles of an aged man. “The last time we sent you somewhere by air you missed two connecting flights, child.”

Alec’s lips lifted in the closest version of a smile he dared show Aro. “I am aware.” He said, truly for him it was a fond memory; he and Jane had realized it was their birthday weekend and had ‘accidentally’ missed their flights. When they’d returned Aro had acted as if he didn’t know the truth, but of course the twins knew better. “I can assure you that won’t happen again.” His eyes remained on his master as his hands moved to close the folder; he held it with both hands. “I assume you want this problem _dealt_ with?” He asked, using the word evidently to claim a less harsh way of saying ‘killed.’

“Indeed.” Aro nodded, “Please do try to do as much damage control as possible, the both of you. We’ve been exposed enough.”

“Of course, Master.” Alec said.

“You may leave.” And with that Aro turned around, clearly the conversation was over and once again, he was able to return to the matters he’d worried upon from his short contact with Heidi. Alec bowed, none the less and turned to leave towards the door he’d come in from without speaking. He could tell Master Aro wanted to be left alone, and Heidi’s strange glance while she left only made Alec wonder what exactly was happening. It didn’t matter for him, anyway; he and his sister had a mission now. Alec closed the giant door behind him and made his way to Jane’s chambers. It seemed duty called once more.

**To Be Continued.**


	2. History

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The nightmare of the aftermath of Rodrigo's death & the final composition in the haunted Island by Her hand.

Carolina Mendoza, the town's historian, sat at the side of her baby boy's crib with a thick book resting in her lap, and the words that left her lips did so in a calm and soothing tone meant to lull the boy into a gentle slumber; her eyes remained on the pages her fingers turn, but now and then her eyes would dance to see if the story had taken its effect on the baby's sleep. "King Henry VIII wouldn't dare upset his people a second time..." She read, mindless of the wind making the trees dance outside, or the waves that so often crashed against the sandy shore of the beach close to her home.

"He's not even a year old and you're already boring him with your history lessons, Caro." Carlos said in his native Spanish, his eyes travelling from the sleeping baby in the crib to his beloved wife; Carlos' smile was an amused one, yet it was full of love and wonder for Carolina as he approached her with silent calm.

The brunette's eyes lifted as soon as her husband's voice reached her ears, and her tale was interrupted; though she hated Carlos' amusing remarks about her life in history, she found his smile instantly reassuring. As she closed the book as quietly as she could whilst daring a look in the direction of her now sleeping baby, she stood from the chair; she moved her hand lightly in a waving movement to motion her husband out of the baby's room. The couple tiptoed out the door and remained as quiet as they could be until the white wooden entrance to the boy's room was completely shut; and only until then, Carolina finally dared look at Carlos, a happy smile crossing her features. "He's a baby. The more he knows about history the better."

"He  _is_  a baby, Caro." Carlos reminded with a love filled tone whilst pulling his wife into his protective arms. "You should be telling him fairy tales, not History lessons." He mused. "He doesn't even know what you're telling him."

"Ahh." Carolina laughed quietly upon their continued close distance to the baby's room, remaining as close to Carlos as she could; the truth was that since the day she'd seen the horrendous blood-filled tableau on the town's fountain she'd found herself in more need of protection that ever; she felt powerless and fragile. Yet, whenever she was around Carlos, she felt like she couldn't be safer, thus, the constant contact she willed herself to have with her husband in any and all ways. Carolina's hands shifted to rest upon his chest at that moment, her arms moving to push her away from the man only enough so she could look into his eyes. "You're wrong." She countered. "Reading these things to him are like teaching him a new language, his brain is still so young that he learns faster than anyone. That's the gift of a baby. And it's--" Carolina's words were suddenly interrupted by the sound of metal clashing against the sandy ground outside her small house. The couple's eyes wiped in unison to the side where the echo had come from, making the two stand quiet and still in each other's arms, for they knew that no sound at night meant a good thing within their little island.

After a couple of moments, the only sound in the house was that of the breathing of the couple; a toot that lasted nearly a full minute after the metallic sound echoed from the alley. "It's probably just a cat making a garbage bin fall." Carlos said without much conviction as he forced his eyes return to Carolina's familiar features only after he finished speaking. His wife's fear pumped through her veins with each beat of her heart, tainting her blood slowly and leaving her speech paralyzed within a few seconds; for the truth was that the only thing she could come to see in her mind became the bloodless image she had found upon the fountain. "Come on." Carlos pulled her along, trying to break her away from her trance; a feat easier wished than done. " Let's go to bed."

Carolina followed as if in a complete trance.

-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-

"Please, please don't, don't hurt them, don't--  _NO_!!" Carolina's cries echoed around the small house as the red-eyed woman's actions silenced Carlos' screams of pain. People say that the worst feeling in the world is the one you feel when you see your child dead, and now, as she lay in pain upon her wooden floor, Carolina knew that they were wrong; the world's worst pain was to see her own child be  _murdered_  in front of her, as she had only moments prior, when the woman, so familiar and so loathed, stole her child and husband's lives with the touch of her lips to their necks. She felt it was all over, she hoped it would be, for the only reassuring sound was that of the cries of her baby boy, still alive, in the other room.

"Sorry to disappoint." The short haired red-eyed girl said as she finally let go of the limp body of Carolina's husband; a thin red line dripped from the corner of her mouth down to her chin, which she easily wiped off with the press of her thumb against her flesh and licked off as if they were mere remains of a sugary delight; even so, the crimson of the blood she'd ingested and cleaned off so easily contrasted against her deeply pale skin.

Carolina wanted to move but anytime she tried, her newly broken arms and legs hurt in agonising pain that made every limb burn and a fiery warmth will a scream to echo from dry lips; only leaving her helpless as she observed the red-eyed woman whilst she took the last few steps left to stand right in front of the broken historian. "Why are you doing this, Mariana?" Carolina yelled at the short haired girl; looking at the coal of her hair, the crimson of her orbs, the very familiar features of her flesh and posture; things the town's historian could only recognize upon the remembrance of one of the history classes she gave to the teens within the island.

"Oh, stop." The red-eyed woman spat as her eyes rolled. "I'm not Mariana; though it's nice to know her name. I can actually interact with people in the island now." She informed, daring to lift her lips in a grin that only made her innocent features look that much more devilish, nearly so easily making the hairs in the historian's arms and neck stand on end. "Thank you for that, love." Slowly, the woman's body lowered with a grace Carolina had never before seen in Mariana until she was kneeling only inches away from her. "By the way." The short haired girl continued; allowing the historian a forced look in her direction with fear filled eyes. "That book of yours has a few mistakes." And with those last words, her features started shifting inch by inch as if with magic; her hair started growing, the rounded and chubby face lengthened as she slowly leaned closer to Carolina. And even though the historian had been wrong about the woman being Mariana, she still could very easily recognise, or speculate to recognise who the red-eyed woman in front of her actually was. And as the beauty of the femme overcame her, she could do nothing else but scream before her life was as much stolen as her family's had been.

-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-

The moon shone on the sky through a couple of clouds as she fixed the last little details of her brand new art. The bloodless body of Carolina Mendoza kneeled on the sandy beach, held upright solely by a wooden log that she'd been impaled with. Her body hid it completely, though, _she_  had barely used it to keep the body straight. A pearl white dress adorned Carolina's body; her old wedding dress. Both her hands had been nailed together on a praying motion, her body clean in its impaled state regardless of the adorning means of her head as it lay sad apart from her body barely a few inches away.

Closely behind Carolina, her husband's body stood, also impaled to hold his body completely straight, dressed in a dark black suit. His head lowered to look at his headless wife, his hands also nailed together, but to hold a black wooden sword; a prop obtained in the little boy's toy trunk.

And lastly, the part that had been the hardest for  _her_  to adorn, was the teenage girl; who stood, impaled, alike her parents, upright, pale with her bloodless skin shining under the bright moonlight. Both her hands were nailed to her face in a way in which seemed as if they hid her face in sadness. The tableau rained with meaning for the red-eyed woman, yet even then her lips lifted in a satisfied expression; not all that had come out from the new art adoring the beach was pain.

From somewhere far away in the island; in the now completely empty house of the town historian, a young baby cried, wishing, in his lonely little room, that his mother would come comfort him the way that she never would do again.

_**To Be Continued** _


	3. Mirrors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crime comes to light, and the Volturi step in; only to realise their job is not as easy as they wished it was.

Alec and Jane had ended up connecting to another airplane, one that didn't hold more than 20 people on its flight, and landed without delay on the small island. They had made an attempt to see the pilot off, but it seemed he was either spooked by he and Jane, or something else; he guessed the latter. With their bags left in the capable confines of a locker at the small landing area in the tiny airport, with plenty of complaining on Jane's part, they made their way throughout a town that was nearly deserted of any life, and nearly instantly felt highly aware of a tension that warned of something major haunting every corner. "It's quiet." Alec stated in a low voice toward his blonde twin.

"Too quiet." Jane agreed in a monotone note that didn't waver as they walked along the streets; heading for the direction of the only scent that wasn't anywhere close to human. Yet, when they looked down the small cliff from which they stood, Alec became able to see motion somewhere close, and, after a short couple of seconds of sharing a knowing look with his twin, they moved.

They made their way down the cliff and towards the beach with ghost-like silence as both twins continued looking at the small gathering of figures, of which only one seemed to be animated. Of course, Jane didn't waste any time before she allowed her gift to expand and torture the moving woman, whose actions with the frozen figures, statues that Alec realized were deceased impaled humans, stopped abruptly to let out a pain-filled yelp; leaving her work forgotten while her knees met the ground. The two watched as the short haired girl tried making herself smaller, as if that alone would make the horrendous pain go away. "Stop!" She yelled desperately as her naturally red eyes searched for what could possibly be causing her torture.

They made their way towards the screaming woman on the floor, her cries of anguish caused Alec's lips to curl into a tempting smirk. Jane's gift on the woman was working splendidly; the cries only made the situation the more sweet for the twins; whomever had said one could not enjoy one’s work? "Looks like someone's been a bad girl." Alec chanted with the omnipresent smirk. He shared a look with Jane, and walked ahead of her to pull the screaming woman upwards from the ground; flinching for a short second, without letting go, when the woman's skin jolted him for the shortest moment. His brows creased together as he looked back toward Jane, yet, when he chose to look back at the woman who had so suddenly stopped screaming, he felt his eyes widening in surprise as he witnessed the once perfectly feminine features of the person he held, changing and shifting right in front of him until he was looking right at a perfect mirror of himself. "Dio..." He whispered lowly, only a couple of seconds before the perfect clone, still in his firm grasp, decided to speak too. "You don't want to do this." Alec's own voice said back at him, and as if in perfect repulsion, Alec quickly let go of the shifted person only long enough for him to speed to his sister and expand his own power toward the once screaming subject; a dark cloud misted around his double, a spark of fear winding its way around Alec as he spoke in a hushed voice toward Jane. "What are your thoughts, sister?" He allowed Jane a break in her powers to speak to him, as he flopped his double's pain for complete and total nothingness.

"This is peculiar." Jane confided as she stared at the perfect copy of her brother sitting with a bewildered expression on the ground, knowing that the mind of the once-girl was probably faded with confusion at the means in which she could possibly think she was most likely dead.

"Quite different. Nothing I've ever seen before." Alec agreed as he nodded and looked away from the spit image of himself on the ground and toward his sister once again.

"We should take her to Aro." Jane's crimson optics finally danced away from the double, forcing herself to look straight at the original life version of her brother. "I am sure he would appreciate a brand new toy. We'll let him choose her..." Jane paused for a second while she looked back at the shifted subject on the ground; could she really call it a woman? It had been a few moments ago... "... _it's_  fate." She finally finished.

The real Alec nodded and followed his sister's eyes to look at his double, taking in an unneeded breath before he tugged his vicious cloud away from the person on the floor, only enough for it to have its senses back, but close enough that Alec could use it again in a moment's notice. "Who are you?" He started. "And don't tell lies; the Volturi don't  _appreciate_  liars."

Jane watched as the other Alec looked confusedly around him, and his eyes switched toward her brother, while in a slightly shaken voice he spoke. "Volturi? Who are  _you?"_ Jane's brows shot upwards in disbelief at the double's words. "How did you...?" The double stood up as quickly as he could, which looked a little slow compared to the normal speed vampires could move in; still dumbfounded, Jane looked at Alec, who had chosen that moment to share a look with her too. Clearly both twins were slightly confused, for every undead being should be aware of the existence of the Volturi.

"We were sent here to clean up your mess." The real Alec finally said as his eyes shifted toward the man in front of him. "But I think it would be in your best interest to come with us instead. That is, if you wish to live." Alec paused for a moment while his eyes studied the complete figure of his double; his head tilting slightly to the side almost in deception. He truly wished to kill anyone who dared wear his face to confront him. "And I would advise you...  _shift_  into  _your_  own body."

The double's eyes shifted from Alec to Jane for a moment, but slowly it's features started changing again, slowly transforming into the short haired woman that the twins had first encountered when they approached the beach. The woman's eyes studied Alec for a moment, knowing full well that she had not managed to survive for as long as she had only to be killed by that... child. "Where are we going then?" She said in a voice that made Jane smirk for the way it's tone pretended to hide the fear behind it.

"Italy." Alec answered her with a smirk that mirrored Jane's. "And, of course," he continued, "I think you know what will happen if you try to run." He allowed his cloud of nothingness to blanket the woman's sides, just enough to give her a reminder of what she had felt, before reeling it in and ghosting forward to catch the woman's arm.

Her brow furrowed as Alec's words warned her, yet she couldn't understand what he meant; at least until she started to be unable to feel a thing on her hand and arm. And the frown disappeared into what looked to Alec like a desperate look that only made him let out an amused wave of satisfied laughter when he saw the woman realise what had happened.

But to her, at that very moment, as she realised that the reason she had felt such an incredible numbness had been because of him, Alec suddenly stopped looking like just a child.

****To Be Continued.** **


	4. Similarities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first civilized conversation between the guardian and his prisoner, of whose name he finally comes to learn and doubt.

It had been a long trip; Jane and Alec had been bickering the whole way, a fact that had the woman sniggering and smiling the entire time. Alec was actually more annoyed with Jane for the pointless bickering than the woman for finding their relationship somewhat amusing. When the twins arrived along with their still unknown prisoner back into the Volturi castle in Volterra, they were greeted with the news that Aro had gone out in business; which meant that, for democratic reasons, Caius and Marcus could not make decisions about matters such as the one about the woman's life. So, with a very unamused and quite bored expression, Marcus had ordered Alec to take the woman to the dungeons until Aro returned.

Alec had a vice grip on the woman's upper arm, taking her down the passageway to her housing cell. Jane had decided she had had enough of the ‘family bonding’ and told Alec to piss off, in the friendliest sense of the words. And, anyway, Alec had been told explicitly by Caius to watch the woman while she was there, and only split shifts with Jane when it became ‘necessary’ (a.k.a. when she needed to be questioned in any way). Which, to his annoyance, meant that he would be playing cell guard for most of the day; thus, for as long as the girl was a prisoner. Sighing inwardly, he took a left and headed down the steps with the woman in tow.

"You don't have to grip my arm so harshly, you know?" The woman said to Alec seconds before he so unceremoniously shoved her inside the cell, which only allowed for her to fall forward so suddenly that, if she hadn't held herself against a wall, she would have pathetically fallen to the dirty ground.

"I know." A slow smirk sauntered onto Alec's lips as he closed the cell gate and stepped backward to collapse into a seat that had been placed there previously. "You might as well sit." He motioned to a chair inside the dusty cell. "Goddess knows when Aro will be back to deal with you."

Alec observed as the woman looked around her, taking in the dirty small imitation of a bed cornered against the brick walls and the black dusty chair that Alec had been talking about. Her hands lifted to dust her clothes off in such a manner that nearly spoke of her personal thought of unworthiness of such filth before she finally decided to sit. "You should be kinder to prisoners who don't fight you, boy." She murmured as her expression shifted into a disgusted frown to accompany the very attitude that had previously made the guard’s brows rise.

"I should." Alec admitted with a firm nod as he lifted a leg to cross an angle to his knee. "But, then again, it's not every day you have a  _prisoner_  that transforms into you." His eyes searched the woman as she finally looked up toward him. " _Which,_  by the way, I would love an explanation to.” He paused. “If not for my sake, then for the sake of time consuming, given that we have  _all_  the time in the world."

If looks could kill, Alec felt like he would be frozen on the ground with no life left inside him after the look the woman had so boldly thrown his way; it amused him, really; yet that look didn't last long (whether for the realisation of truth behind his words, or the reality that she, as a prisoner, did not have much of a choice), before the woman decided to speak. "Do you really need an explanation?" She questioned. "You seem to possess an unusual trait as well."

Her eyes never wavered, which only made Alec's smile turn into a satisfied smirk when he saw her fearless facade crumble within a gentle shiver at what he thought could be the recent memory of what he had done to her. He shrugged. "My talents are different from yours, lady." His long smooth fingers moved to dust his knee off from a couple of small particles that had decided to rest there unwelcome. "Plus, we're stuck together until we're summoned, or I get hungry." His eyes lifted to look at the woman again. "So we might as well quell the silence."

She set her hands on her lap, one on top of the other, so poised and unbroken that it nearly impressed Alec, as she looked straight into his eyes. Such manners seemed completely out of place in a location like the one they were stuck in (or, rather,  _she_  was stuck in, for the guard could leave any time he liked), and the boy could see she was reluctant to talk, but after what felt to him like a rather long time, he watched, rather than heard, as the woman gulped. "I'm sure it's not as different as you think, bo-- um..." The woman paused before the full word  _boy_  left her lips; a fact that only made Alec’s smirk deepen; for he was sure that the thing that had made her stop was nothing but the memory of the feeling, or lack thereof, of his gift on her back in that little island of hers. She probably felt like that sole word, a word that implied the innocence of childhood, was misplaced with him. "What's your name?" She asked, almost entirely confirming Alec’s suspicions.

Alec considered lying to the woman for a moment; a moment so short only for the realisation that, given the woman's gifts, she was most likely to be offered a position in the guard. And if such was the case, then, lower guard or not, she had to know his name. "You can call me Alec." He finally admitted as he continued staring at the woman in the cell, studying her more than watching her, for he was entirely curious about the repeated means with which she seemed to want to seem fearless.

"Right." She nodded once before letting out a rather unnecessary sigh. "Alec." She echoed, forcing herself to speak soon after. "I'm sure it's got the same basic roots as your... whatever it is you dare call it.” She paused, looking directly at him without a single waver. She truly was beginning to impress him. “I can..." The woman's voice faded away as she wondered how to explain it; a feat that only left Alec with no other choice than waiting. "Well, when I come in physical contact with someone, anyone, as small as the contact may be, their image seems seared into my brain. The other person doesn’t know it for more than a gentle shock to their skin, but, for some reason, after such a little contact, I can make whomever lays eyes on me see me as the person I touched." Her eyes finally lifted once more to look at Alec. "I don't exactly  _shift._  I sort of just... put on a mental mask. Like a layer or sorts." She paused. “I know I don’t shift because I have come to see my reflection when my gift masks me, and I still see myself. I don’t exactly know how it works, but...” She didn’t speak again.

Alec's smirk fell unconsciously as he tried to wrap his mind around the woman's gift; he understood as much as she explained, even became able to recall the gentle shock he had felt upon his hold on her back in the island, and thankful to have as little an explanation as he could. But the thing was that it didn't seem like even  _she_  completely understood it herself, which, truly, only meant that Alec definitely understood it perhaps a little less than her; only perhaps, because, given his knowledge of the vampire world, the mental capabilities of every discovered talent made sense upon her lack of literal physical change. As far as he knew, only werewolves (and whatever those creatures that had befriended the Cullens were), truly shifted their bodies in any way; vampires did no more than tricks of the mind in every known case. So he was curious. "Since you were turned?" He questioned as he uncrossed his leg and leaned forward, resting both his elbows on his knees.

He was not surprised when the woman nodded. "Yeah." Alec's brows rose again when she attempted to explain further. "I... I had just returned home, and because of it, because I hadn’t seen her in a while, I embraced my sister. Shortly after, I went into the sunlight. I arrived at night, you see, I had spent all my time inside until that moment; and when I finally stood under the sunlight, I could see the strange..." The woman frowned as she searched for words. "The  _unnatural_  way that my skin glistened; but I was scared, I thought I had gone insane. Especially when I realised that no one else seemed to notice it." She nodded once more; releasing a breath and seeming to force herself to look in his direction once again. "Later on, I realised I hadn't exactly wanted them to see my skin glistening, and my brain had mimicked my sister's skin in some sort of instinct. Though, truly, such a moment with the sun was the first time I noticed something was... unusually different with me."

Alec blinked unconsciously, humanly, as he leaned back in his seat. He could imagine the fear within the girl’s mind, driving her almost to insanity upon the unusual realisation of something not entirely right; he knew of makers that did not stay with their neophytes, who abandoned them to discover the world on their own. A rather unfair feat, if anyone asked, him, but... "Not to burst your bubble or anything, but that's not the worst you could have gone through." He admitted, for he could remember the glimpse of a blurry memory left previous to his transformation; he could remember the fire, the fury in his and Jane's village's eyes as they chanted the word ‘unnatural’ over and over again. "The people in England were very unkind." The words left his lips as unconsciously as his previous actions.

Yet, he was surprised when he heard the woman scoff; a gentle puff of humourless air that did no more than force his eyes to fall on her again. "You're telling me." She said, in a tone that nearly mimicked one of a simple conversation happening solely between friends as they shared a drink or a game of chess. "Anything different..." She continued as Alec stared in curiosity. "Anything that didn't go as planned... They called unholy." If he didn't know better, he'd think he was visiting his memories as well, for the woman suddenly seemed... haunted by her own past.

His eyes narrowed slightly as he gave a firm nod toward the woman. "Unholy, wrong, something to be extinguished." He continued, delving into the woman's crimson hues. He searched for some sort of answer as to why she would know anything about English unfairness of the unknown; given her attitude, her posture, her entire air of fearlessness and nearly regal poise. "What was your name, again?" He asked curiously.

The woman's eyes fell to her hands, and a long moment of silence annoyed Alec as he watched the woman ponder over what to say. Could she possibly lie to him? What purpose could such a thing have? "Mariana." She finally said, sounding convincing enough. Alec nodded just as she lifted her eyes to see him. "My name is Mariana, though, if you find it easier, you can call me Mary."

"Mariana." He tested the word on his lips, ignoring the allowance of an easier nickname before he rose himself from the seat he'd been on, to take the short step forward, and offer his hand through the bars to the woman. "Alec Greco." He said. "You could say I'm your knight in shining armour, given the circumstances." A smirk toyed at the corners of his lips, but he didn't give into their temptation.

Her eyes fell to look at Alec's hand, and a couple of seconds later (seconds that only left the boy wondering if his entire study of her was wrong, and she did not actually possess any manners), she dared to stand from her own chair to hold it, and shake it. Her eyes rose slowly to look right into the familiar crimson in Alec's eyes before nodding. "If you're my knight in shining armour, as you call it, next time you grab my arm you should consider doing so a little less harshly." She repeated, in short reminder of what she’d requested when he had thrown her into the cell.

A fact that only left Alec unable to not give into the smirk that tugged at them as she spoke. "I didn't say I was a white knight, did I?" He mused, letting go of her hand before he turned to slide back into his seat and allowed himself the comfort of crossing his legs and leaning back on the chair’s rest with crossed arms.

The moment her hand slumped to her side, she took the one step back to sit on the dusty chair before her eyes rolled slightly at Alec's words. "Not all good things come in white, you know?"

Alec nodded with the smirk playing on his lips as he looked down. “Point taken.” He allowed, with the short realisation that, maybe, guarding his prisoner wouldn't be as dreadful as he first thought it would be.   
 ** **  
To Be Continued.****


	5. Intuition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens when a guard and a prisoner attempt to kill time & the first time Alec questions the girl's identity.

The day was warm, not that either Alec or his prisoner noticed it within the dark confines of the hidden dungeons in the Volturi castle; she sat on the dusty old bed as calmly and comfortably as she could be with her life on the line, inside a cell smaller than even the living room of one of the cabins from the little island she'd so haunted for weeks. Her legs rested long and stretched on the hard surface of the strangely placed and poorly taken care of mattress, and her back rested against the brick of one of the walls. A notebook, Alec noticed, rested on her lap, and the pencil she held in her hand moved along in little motions in between the few glances that her slightly darkened crimson hues made upon him for no longer than a few seconds each time. Yet, every time he noticed one of those strange looks was about to happen, he'd look away, pretending to be more interested on the book in his hands; he didn't exactly want her to notice how he looked at her with curiosity, how his eyes scanned across her features, taking in each curve and line as her eyes fixated on her little notebook. It was probably odd, given the circumstances. Yet, when his prisoner looked away from him again, Alec decided to lean against his knees to glance at the notebook she'd given the attention to for the past few hours; curiosity was truly eating at him. "What are you doing, Mariana?" His voice nearly mirrored that of a curious little boy.

It truly had been as if he had attacked her, for her movements were quick (though, not as quick as any other vampire's could be), as she pulled her notebook close towards her, hugging it against her chest as if the darkest of secrets hid within it. "It's not ready." She abruptly said, blocking the plain unfinished drawing from Alec's prying eyes before he could even see more than just a line; which only made the guard's brows rise. Only then, when such a displeased expression crossed his features for her own scarlet orbs to observe, did a small version of a smile cross her lips. "It's a drawing." She said, "It's not ready to be seen yet."

His eyes narrowed for a moment at his prisoner; only so, for the reality of their mutual situation: her boldness at hiding something from him when he so easily, as a guard, could order her to show him; but then, with the realisation that there was no need for pointless shows of position, he allowed himself to lean back on his seat once again with such a sudden curiosity overpowering him at a level that left his next words coming out uncensored. "Are you ready to show me the real you, then, at least?" It was a thought that had been bubbling continuously within his mind for the past few days, a thought that, for the same reason he had chosen not to order her to show him the sketch, he had not voiced prior to that moment. But his own curiosity had dumbfounded him, made his own will disappear and expel a question so rude, in his eyes, that he was not at all surprised for the silence that followed. In fact, before he realised what he'd spoken, his eyes had fallen to the book on his lap once again, but, with the silence, came the notice of his errors; thus, his orbs widened slightly as he looked up at her again. Her own hues were wide on her notebook, and her hand was completely frozen. "Shit." Alec started apologetically. "Sorry, forget it. You don't have to answer that." Damn his own curiosity for forcing forth the very power of position he very much did not care to show.

The silence between them seemed slightly too heavy for the few moments both vampires decided to stay quiet, but after a moment that Alec felt was slightly too long; so long, in fact, that he'd even looked down at his book again (not focusing, but wishing his foot wasn't so deep into his mouth); she finally spoke. "What makes you think this isn't the real me?" Her eyes were on him when he looked up to see her, and her tone sounded calm, yet fake; ironic, after the question she was answering.

"I'm not sure." He admitted, lowering the book mindlessly as he pondered over the inquiry he, himself, had wondered upon on his own time. He had once decided that wasn't going to pry; that was what his Master was there for, after all; but now that the subject had been taken up, he found himself unable to let her drop it as quick as a dead fly on a winter night. He didn't know exactly why those words had been the first to come out from his lips loudly and unwanted (perhaps for his continued thought upon the subject), but he knew it'd been completely uncalled for. Yet with his prisoner's gift... how could he be sure the face she showed was the one she'd been born with. "Is it?"

Her eyes remained on her guard, and he could hear her breathing, though unnecessary, slightly calm; there was doubt there, such silence that nearly immediately answered his question as her eyes lowered slowly to look at her notebook again, just as if it had, alone, become much more interesting than him. He thought she wouldn't answer, but, after a couple of seconds, her short dark locks bounced against her pale cheeks as she shook her head. "No." She voiced, confirming his suspicions with such a single word whilst the pencil in her hands resumed its dancing as if it had never stopped. "It's not."

All Alec could find himself able to say was a single "Hm." For a smirk played along his lips to keep himself from yelling 'I WAS FUCKING RIGHT!' in a means so rude that even he would end up feeling guilty. Though, after such a moment passed, he wanted to ask more; open his mouth to inquire for more details. Or, if not that, then at least show his own restraint and continued thought wish of his lack of display of position to tell her that he didn't mean to pressure her into showing herself to him. In fact, his lips had parted to explain the latter, when Jane, Alec's dainty, yet dangerous, blonde twin, walked slowly toward the cell without much any other noise than the cute soft sound of the heels of her shoes against the hard rock floor.

"Alec." Jane said quickly, harshly, and almost entirely without a hint of humour; and he could tell simply by the way she looked at him that a request so easily given by one Caius Ginakos was about to give her the entertainment of the day. He almost felt bad for little Mariana and her notebook with doodles.  _Almost_. "Heidi has come in with brand new  _recruits."_  Jane informed him. "Go get fed, brother."

Alec, of course, showed no other emotion than relief as he stood from his seat, with his book in hand, to retrieve his cloak from the back of his chair. "I don't think I have to remind you not to try and escape, do I?" His eyes moved toward the suddenly frightened looking woman. And he could tell, simply by the way her eyes shifted with fear between Jane and himself, that she knew very well what awaited her. Again, he almost felt bad for her; nonetheless, he decided to finish his thought when her eyes locked on him once again. "A pretty girl like you wouldn't like to risk her head coming off, now, would she?"

The fear in her eyes did not match the still poised posture of the woman in the cell; still, when she spoke, there was a nearly inaudible hint of terror adorning her words. "My head's been cut off before." She informed, with a nearly automatic note and a means of confusion for the younger boy. It was clear in the way she looked at him that she had not meant for such information to escape her, but it had; and, clearly, once out, she wished better to finish her thought. "It didn't do anything." The prisoner continued, leaving Alec's hand frozen in a motion for his sister to get comfortable in the chair he'd been using, and an entirely transfixed expression crossing his features. "I woke up in a coffin two or so days later."

The boy's head tilted to the side in genuine confusion upon the realisation that his playful threat had somewhat backfired, and he didn't exactly understand why, or how; nor, really, how it was that the girl's head had once been off of her shoulders. It simply made no sense; what vampire would attempt to kill another without finishing the job? Well, the adding to Alec's confusion only allowed for a soft wave of anger to start rising inside him, yet, even as his hands balled into fists against his held cloak and book, his voice remained calm, regardless of the means in which his eyes rolled in absolute annoyance. "Just behave." He spat in a quick order toward the girl before daring to turn to Jane, without waiting from any reply from the woman behind bars, to nod his head. "Sister." He paused for a second, flicking a look in the other's direction before forcing himself to slip the back cloak over his shoulders and leaving the place.

The last thing that Alec could hear as he walked away, confusion and anger still printed all over his features, were the loud painful screams, full of desperation, of his mysterious and confusing prisoner.

**To Be Continued**


	6. Theatrics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alec's attempts of intimidation with his prisoner finally work, & Aro's reaction to the newcomer becomes enough to confuse the guard, making him wonder what became of his sanity.

Alec's steps echoed in the empty and lamp lit hallway toward his prisoner's cell; as he walked and rested his eyes on his smirking sister, he knew that Mariana's time hadn't been an easy one to go through, and when he saw her, he realised he'd been right. The dust particles had become her only pleasant companion in the small jail. She sat pathetically in a corner of the small rock cell, so pathetically unlike the many times he'd seen her, but even so, she remained poised; her back was straight, her eyes were closed and her hands were both crossed upon her lap; which was either more pitiful or quite impressive.

Jane's eyes nearly tore a hole into the prisoner, yet she'd found the woman's personally thought pathetic position absolutely amusing.  _Caius told me to keep an eye on you,_ Jane had said at some point,  _not to make your stay a pleasant one._ "Sister," Alec interrupted Jane's deep musings of torture. "You may go now." He announced once Jane's eyes fell on him with nearly that same death stare she'd been sending the now very aware girl in the cell. "Master Aro has instructed me to fetch the prisoner." A light smirk danced on his lips as he looked toward the girl he spoke about; all for the good of scaring her a little longer. Jane didn't bother to speak, and Alec could tell that his sister was maybe slightly unhappy to not have what she would call a toy to play with anymore. He didn't really feel bad for his twin when his eyes followed his sister as she left, but then he turned to look at Mariana, his hands moving to open the door of her cell.

The girl was standing defeated from her spot in the corner, pulling the strap of the little bag she'd carried from the moment the twins saw her, over her head. "You won't be able to take anything with you." Alec's voice tooted on the brick walls of the solitary cell as courteous as he dared make it. He knew he could see behind her mask; she was afraid. Of him? Of Aro? He wasn't sure exactly, but he did think, with genuine pity, that his prisoner was solely scared for her own life; for Alec had seen the look on her face before, in many other people, yet the memory that hit him the most was the blurry version of the memory of his twin sister many millennia ago as they were both about to be cast into the fire that once stole their humanity.

The girl's eyes looked into Alec's crimsons, and he could see, by the way she hesitated on moving to remove her bag, that something clearly important to her was hiding in its confines. Thankfully, though, a few moments later her head shook and she finally let go of the bag, dropping it carefully on the old dusty bed she'd been resting on a few moments ago. Her eyes lowered, Alec noticed, as if they were haunted by the memory of something in her past, and he couldn't help but wonder what exactly that was. Of course he grew impatient, though, for he would be the one to get in trouble if Aro had to be left to wait for too long; so he motioned for her to step out, his hand on one of the bars of the door just a few seconds before he decided to reach for her arm, squeezing it tightly as he normally would. But then, with the gentle remembrance of his conversation with her, weeks prior, coming into mind, his grip loosened; Moving swiftly, he directed her towards the long hallway that lead to the darker portion of the dungeon. "Bloody hell." She whispered, to which Alec, whose eyes had been resting on her uncomfortably scared features, simply chuckled. "What's so bleeding funny?" She asked.

Alec's head shook, and instead of replying to her, he simply let her find her own way in the dark. He had to scare her, leave her wary for a few more moments, lest she think she could escape; and the only way he could do so, without exactly traumatizing her (not that he cared too much about that), was to lead her down the direction only those vampires sentenced to death really passed through. "I'm taking you somewhere I would never be caught in." He admitted with a smirk replaying across his lips, more for his sake than her own, because technically he knew he wasn't lying.

"Never be..." She started speaking, glancing at the abandoned cells, the torture devices, the one cell inhabited by a very broken man; but then her eyes narrowed in search of Alec. "Where are we going?"

And as she asked this, Alec watched as the tips of her short hair graced the soft paleness of her cheeks when she turned around. The guard's lips broke into a wicked grin, for he could see the fear that she had neglected to show, slowly beginning to fade into her features and amusing him far more than it should. His hand lifted to motion in the air for his prisoner to turn back around. "Keep walking." He said lowly before recapturing her arm in a slightly gentle grip, as if she were going to run after looking at such things.

As the girl moved, he could almost see the wheels turning inside her mind, for her lips parted unnecessarily to let out slightly jaded breaths, as if she had a heart that had quickened with the fear of her close demise. "Where are we going, Alec?" She repeated nearly frantically. "Are... Are you going to kill me?"

Alec had to admit he was enjoying her display of fear a little too much, given her unshaken facade that had held until now, but unfortunately for him, his entertainment was about to be over, for they'd finally reached the exit they'd been walking towards. The light from the room pooled in once he opened the door, and he could feel the way she jumped back at the brightness of the lights. He'd forgotten she hadn't seen any light other than the dim lamps in the dungeon for around a month and a half. "Kill you?" He asked innocently as he pulled her along with him into the long, brightly lit hallway, before he closed the door. Once he did so, he turned around to look at the very confused and slightly unamused girl. "Why would I do that?" His hand lowered from her arm to let her make her own way down the hallway, just before he pointed towards a staircase at the end. "We're going that way, Mariana."

"What?" She asked transfixed.

"Go on." Alec paused as he waited for his prisoner to start walking. He almost felt guilty for scaring her.  _Almost_. They walked along in silence, and Alec didn't bother taking hold of her arm again; he trusted her enough not to run, the theatrics were over, and if she did try, well, she didn't have a lot of places to go to before he made her feel as dead as Aro would make her be.

After a short moment, he decided to take the lead, making their way upstairs and towards the lesser known area of the castle, until the clearly more scared girl and him stood at the entrance of the Master's workroom. Alec reached toward the giant wooden doors and opened them to reveal Aro with a small pile of papers resting on his desk. When the guard turned to look at his prisoner again, he could see how the fear had gotten slightly higher than before, so, without exactly knowing why (perhaps the realisation that her mask of fearlessness had not broken until now), he leaned closer to whisper in her ear. "Don't be afraid of him; all he wants is the truth."

It was truly only those words that finally called Aro's attention; making his smiling features turn to look toward the couple at the door. "Alec." He voiced, nearly even chanted, as he stood from his enormous velvet chair to lift his arms in welcome. "You've brought me our guest." His head inclined to study her with quiet admiration. "The one with the gift?"

Alec's head bobbed in a respectful nod toward his Master. "She is." He stated before even daring to finally reach for her arm again, only to push her to stand closer to Aro, who had meanwhile rounded his desk to stand fully in front of it. Alec closed the doors quickly and stepped into a corner to solely observe once he was sure he had deposited her right in front of the elder vampire.

As her nerves rose evidently, Alec's arms crossed, leaning against the wall closest to him. Aro's smile shone across his features upon growing conscious of the prisoner's nervousness. "Why don't we get this over with, my dear?" He asked in the friendliest tone that his voice could master, just as, without bothering with more tactics to make the girl's nerves grow, he extended a hand toward her.

Her brow furrowed as soon as her eyes set on Aro's extended hand; he awaited patiently until she, on her own, took it.  _Alec said he only wanted the truth,_ she thought; a means to force herself forth. Though, if she had a heart, it would be beating out of her chest; still, confused, she willed herself to take Aro's hand. Her lips parting to let in very unnecessary breaths.

The Master's eyes looked straight into hers as his free hand gently rested above hers, making her thoughts, memories and experiences all easily thread into his mind like the swift flow of the mirror-like waters of a waterfall; centuries upon centuries of them, any thought, any change this girl had made upon her body, they all played inside Aro's mind like a fast-forwarded movie, replaying it vividly the way he would his own memories. It was why, after a couple of seconds, a long breathed gasp of excited surprise left his lips, making Alec's brows rise in curious boredom; and to his surprise (which made his brows shift into a confused frown), the guard watched as his master let go of the girl's hand as, with a swift move, he tossed his robe to the side slightly, inclining his head forward so he could properly bow toward her. "Your Majesty." He said, rising himself slowly to look directly into her eyes one more time. "You are a  _long_  way from home."

Alec's eyes danced from Aro to that whom he thought of as his prisoner, pushing himself off of the wall as his arms uncrossed with a deep frown that shone with eminent disbelief, creasing in the middle of his forehead.  _Your_ what!?

**To Be Continued**


	7. Royalty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We finally see the revelation of the young prisoner girl, the outcome of her choice over the two options given to her by Aro, & the aftermath of her confessions on Alec's mind.

Her eyes widened as the two words she hadn't heard be directed at her in centuries left the lips of the stranger in front of her. She forced herself to gulp the strange knot that had taken over her throat as her eyes studied the man from head to toe; his long hair, his ruby hues, his old clothes; but her next words came only a note higher than a whisper. "How did you...?" Her eyes remained fixed on his respectful form at all times.

Aro ignored her question as his head shook only a little before he threw a smiling glance in the direction of a completely transfixed Alec. "Our plans have changed." He informed him before returning his gaze to the queen in front of him. "You have, regretfully, still broken many laws of the Volturi, your Majesty." He announced to the equally transfixed femme. "But I have something to offer you." An odd smile twisted his lips, much to the woman’s lack of understanding, yet clear to become for the realisation upon the true value of the historical jewel he could ward under his arm. "You are a royal exception,  _dear one_. Thus, I am willing to grant you death..." The eyes of the girl and the Master's met in a communicative level, one in which Aro could easily see the amount of fear that had so easily grown into her being, regardless of the continuation of a poised posture that easily would be able to fool any human; so to end the queen's torture, he continued. "...or a place among us."

Alec's frozen state only allowed him to stare between both people; yes, he could be very aware of the many realisations upon her attitude and posture that had perhaps given her a regal air before, but he still couldn't, for the existence of him, understand what exactly seemed to be happening in front of him. The only thing that he was sure of, if anything, was that the girl he once thought of as his prisoner now had to make a choice: to become a Volturi;  to train and master the art of becoming a member of their guard; or to die. And he was rather sure he already knew which option the young  _queen_  would choose. As if the revelation of such thought importance of her stature wasn't enough, the veil of the physical image that Alec had so rightfully guessed to be fake a couple of weeks prior, slowly started shattering in front of him; the round features of the girl from the island started slowly fading into longer and finer ones, and the hair that had once been shoulder short and coal black, seemed to suddenly cascade into a curly dark brown fall against her back. Was that her real self? Alec wondered as he stared at the young queen's back.

An event that only left Alec the more transfixed, resulted in a wave of excited clapping coming from the old Master who was also watching her. "I do not wish to die, my lord." Her voice, that now chimed in a soft soprano note, and, to Alec, felt more natural coming from a vampire, finally echoed around the room in a gentle interruption to the Master’s excitement.

Aro's head shook as the smile that had lifted his features remained, impossible to disappear upon the events in front of him making him realise just how high of an addition he had just made into his guard. "And so, you shall not." He voiced, tone chirping with joy, before an arm lifted to gesture toward the guard that had just managed to move from his frozen state. "Alec shall take care of you, and teach you the ways of the Volturi." He announced, not even noticing the way in which the boy’s jaw locked when he realised that not only he still had no idea what was going on, but he had just been put on mentor duty to the new recruit. He didn't dare think much as he moved to open the door of the long room, having taken such utterance as an invitation to a finished meeting. "I have it on good authority that he has told you what can happen if you make an escape plan or attempt one." Aro continued, smiling a grin that the young guard thought would crack his features in half if he wasn’t careful, before he saw the girl's (no,  _queen's_ ) head bob in an affirmative nod. Alec's eyes rolled in slight annoyance as his master made such an incredible show of taking her hand to press his cold and dead lips against its back. "Welcome to Volterra, your Majesty."

Simply nothing made sense.

"Thank you, my lord." Alec’s once-prisoner simply responded as she allowed her body to lower in a small curtsy, rather weird-looking in the jeans she wore, before she turned around to face what looked to her like a very annoyed Alec. A small smile was forced to remain on her lips, calm bleeding through every movement she made regardless of her continued fear that she was, as they say, still in the line of fire.

Alec's eyes fell on her once again, and this time, being the first time his eyes fell on what he thought to be her real facial features, they widened slightly; the soft paleness of her flesh still looked human, yet at the same time, to him, her skin looked like porcelain. Her thin lips seemed rosy and warm, though Alec knew they couldn't be; and her long dark waves of hair only highlighted the fairness of her skin, looking naturally like what he knew a vampire's features to look like. She was beautiful, Alec realised, not that such a thought was the most important in his mind; it was simply the most polite. "It looks like you have a lot to learn." He voiced, forcing himself to look away from her as he closed the doors of the big workroom.

"Learn?" She asked, without daring much of a pause whilst looking directly at Alec. "What do you mean?"

As he walked, with her tagging along and hurrying to walk by his side, he decided to look at her again. It was odd, he realised, to see this face on her, the hair, the brand new everything; though, it was clear that it wasn't new.  _Is this really you?_ He thought; he realised, only now, that her features before had looked  _too_  human, too fragile. Though, when he looked into her eyes, he realised that her shinning merlot hues were the only thing that hadn't changed in her features; at least, not the way they could have. They were only shades darker due to her thirst. He didn't know why he felt thankful for the fact. "Master Aro gave you a choice." He finally said, forcing himself, once again and with a shrug, to look in front of him as if he didn't know from memory where he was going. "Die or become one of us; you chose the latter, which means you have to train, learn how we operate, etcetera." He began walking towards the hall that housed the entire guard. Alec, of course, lived in the upper level (lower guard got the lower level), but he had  _not_  been instructed to let the  _queen_  out of his sight. He had to do everything in his power not to just question her privacy at that moment.

All she could do was think of what she'd chosen; the minute decision that, in her eyes, simply held no option. Of course she'd chosen not to die, she'd lived entirely too long to let all of it go to waste; in her eyes, she had been given a second chance, perhaps now a third, and she simply had to make the best out of it. Yet, part of her didn’t understand; sure, she was glad she was not going to die anytime soon, but her eyes remained on her guardian as she dared question him. "But what did I just join?" The confusion that drowned her insides so easily echoed in her natural soprano voice. "Who  _are_ you?"

Alec's whole body paused as he slowly turned to look wide eyed at her. "The Volturi." He said, merely pausing to see if she reacted in any way to the name. To be honest, he'd been thinking she had been pretending not to know who they were at the beginning purely to seem tough, fearless, like she seemed to pretend to be, but when this time again she didn't react, pure anger resonated in his next words. "Are you telling me you don't even know  _that!?_ " He barked, watching her, observing her for any change; yet, her eminent silence was enough confirmation to his words. He took a step closer to her. "We're the government of all vampire kind. We're fucking  _royalty_  in this day and age." As he paused, he swallowed absently to take the step back and mock a bow toward the other. "But it seems you are as well...  _your Majesty."_ Not even if he’d attempt it would his anger become able to be hidden, willing a feigned roll of his eyes before rising his frame to walk toward the few steps that lead toward his apartment in the big castle. He'd share it with her, for now, not that he wanted to see much of her at that moment. Perhaps he’d simply give it to her, hide somewhere else during the counted times in his future in which he didn’t have to be with her. He needed a space, for he felt betrayed, and, other than his room, he didn't exactly know where else to put her.

Regardless of the hostility, she followed along; her brow had suddenly furrowed at Alec's words, which reminded her a little too much of her past, of the mocking tone she had had thrown at her centuries ago. Which, of course, made anger cloud her own mind as well, though more poised, even nearly calm; even her tone wasn't exactly loud. The next time she spoke, it simply sounded cold and entirely full of confidence. "I've been  _hiding_ for centuries, Alec. From  _everyone_ ; if I ever crossed paths with another one like me, I ran or killed them before I could learn anything at all about this world. I've been living like an unimportant human all these years, centuries, only truly accepting and facing what I  _was_  when I got to that bloody bit of island that you so kindly took me away from. I'm  _sorry_  for wounding your ego and not knowing who you are. I was too miserably busy trying to hide who  _I_ really was!" By the time she stopped speaking, Alec and herself were a step away from her guard's door; not one of them had noticed when they had stopped walking, and she felt suddenly thankful that she didn't need to breathe, for she had actually been able to say all that, harshly, without a single pause.

Alec, though, turned slowly, cold hues cast upon his prisoner. He was  _not_  her caretaker, her babysitter, and he didn't care that she was or was not some sort of royal in the past; he knew she was no such thing now. That this girl was, for all intents and purposes,  _lower_  that he was; she was untrained, uneducated in the art of being a Volturi guard, and most definitely wasn't a threat; which was really the only reason behind his anger. But if she turned out to be, then, not only would he be thankful for the excuse to fight her, but a threat would be exactly how he would treat her. Because of this, he took a step forward, and another, and another until her back was completely pressed against the nearest wall; Alec wanted to tell her she could quit acting all high and mighty, to tell her that right at that moment, he truly was her only friend, if she could even call him that with the short pang of distrust he felt toward her, but instead, he fixated his eyes on hers and spoke lowly in a question; so calmly, that he was sure he had seen her shiver shortly. "And  _who_  exactly are you, _Mariana_?" His tone shifted, because, at that moment, he wasn't even sure if that was her even real name.

The eyes that had been so suddenly clouded with anger softened slowly into a worried shadow as soon as she found herself stuck between the one she thought of as her guard, and the wall behind her. Alec's eyes nearly drilled a hole inside her as he awaited for her answer, but she continued, even now, to refuse to show him just how much he was scaring her. A feat that had once impressed him, only annoyed him at that moment. She knew, though, that if such had been any other situation, Alec's petty attempts at intimidation wouldn't have even phased her, but that day; that day she'd just escaped death's veil by a blink.

Automatically, though, as many centuries of hiding would have it, she started considering not telling Alec a thing; it was Master Aro, as the guard had addressed him, that made her reconsider. For he seemed to already know just who she was, and since he was the leader (something that had not at all taken her long to realise), she figured everyone in the castle would eventually find out. So, for the first time in nearly five hundred years, she decided to speak the truth at last; without daring to look away from the deep crimson eyes of the curly haired boy, she spoke: "My name is not Mariana." She admitted, with a small pause that made Alec's brows rise in pretend surprise. "It’s Anne." It was as if she wanted to savour the very last moments of her hidden identity, as if that last name was the only thing covering her from the mask she'd worn for years; but, finally, with a defeated, yet completely firm voice, she confessed. "Anne Boleyn." The name left her lips as if the last time she'd spoken it had only been yesterday; familiar, full of meaning for her, completely true. To which Alec could only blink, leaning back slightly in surprise that even he couldn’t pretend wasn’t there; and though she could see that he knew exactly who she was, she decided to continue speaking the words she wished she'd been able to tell someone centuries ago. "I was King Henry VIII of England's second wife. Mother of Elizabeth I. Executed in front of people who once chanted  _witch_  behind my back because I couldn't father a child after my beloved girl; executed in front of people who  _betrayed_  me. Executed for unjust reasons, for  _lies_  that named me a whore.  _That..._ is who I am. " And at that exact moment, as a long exhalation of breath left her lips, Anne felt as if the greatest weight had suddenly been lifted of her shoulders.

Alec's stare continued to bore into her even when she stopped speaking; it made sense, he realised, how his Master had reacted to her. And even how  _she_  had acted since the moment they'd captured her; that poise and composure he thought he’d been witness to... it simply made sense. She had been born into her lifestyle, not into his, or subsequently those that were in his ranks. Anne, Alec realised, had been born, bred and died completely in her own rank. He was almost left without a means to prove otherwise.  _Almost._  "You  _were_  a queen." He finally said, taking that step forward again, and towering slightly above her, but with a tone slightly gentler than the one he'd used to address her before. "But no longer. You are a member of the Volturi guard now, of very little significance as of this moment. You do not hold any presence over me,  _or_  others, and you will  _not_  act as it." A muscle that tended to twitch in the heat of the moment did, not the place, but nevertheless it did. "You are  _simply_  Anne, and I am  _simply_  Alec. Nothing more, nothing less, and it would do you well never to lie to me again." Alec lingered for a moment to look into her eyes before he backed away to walk toward his apartment's door; he quickly opened it, and motioned for Anne to make her way inside with a nod of his head. "We begin tomorrow." He said, and without further ado he turned around and walked down toward the long stairwell that they'd just climbed up, leaving Anne staring after him, and realising that she didn't know where she was, nor truly what had just happened, but that Alec had made it more than impossibly clear: she had better enjoyed the small show of highness that had been given to her by the so called Master Aro, a Master that seemed to be now hers as well, because it would probably be the last.

**To Be Continued**


End file.
